Just Tell Me You Will Fix This!
by jule7434
Summary: Inspired by this line from Alicia in the 5x12 promo


**_Thanks to Tali for reading it first and encouraging me to post this. _**

**_I decided to post it last minute and wanted to do it before the episode airs when this will probably become irrelevant, so I haven't used a beta. Sorry for the mistakes._**

**_Please let me know what you think :)_**

* * *

As I drove from Florrick, Agos offices to the Gubernatorial Mansion, I took the long way in an attempt to calm myself down before confronting Peter. It will probably be useless for as I walk down the hallways that lead to the governor's office, I feel my blood starting to boil again. As much or even more than before. At first I couldn't believe he had done something like planting fraudulent votes to win the election. After Marilyn showed me the footage of Jim Moody carrying the ballot box and left to help Eli dealing with the crisis, I sat there unable to move except for my finger, which pressed the replay button over and over again. I don't know if by that I was trying to find any evidence that the video was a fake or to convince myself that it wasn't. The only aspect of my relationship with Peter that hasn't been affected by the scandal was my faith in him as a politician. Now even that was shattered.

I was still in the denial over the fact that the ballot box we had tried so hard to discard at first – thinking it had been planted by Kresteva – and then fought to get included, because by then I thought it was legit, since Peter would never do such a scheme; was actually fraudulent. Zach was put on the stand three times; he was so invested. We had spent the whole night arguing the case and then destructing our own arguments to build new ones, jumping from court to court, waiting for Abernathy and his sciatic walks. In the **car**. That was the night that set everything in motion. The night I turned my life upside down, because I realized I could not be near Will. I would have left in the middle of Peter's victory celebration with Will – had it been him.

It had taken me a long time and countless rewatches of the tape for me to believe that this was happening, but as soon as I left my office to go to the gubernatorial mansion meet Peter, denial was past and I had moved on to anger. Once again Peter had put us, his family, on the spotlight for another scandal. He messed up and I was left dealing with the press – he had Eli, Marilyn and security to shield him from that –, protecting our kids from the world and raising them, if he went back to prison.

Part of the reason I have stayed through Amber, through Kalinda, always postponing signing those papers was to avoid new harassment by the press. Our children don't deserve to go through that again, especially not because of the mistakes of their parents. That's why I panicked, everytime, at the mere possibility of my time with Will coming to light. That's why I never allowed it to be more than a 'time together', why I was so afraid of leaving my marriage for Will, like Owen once said; why I had to get away from him. I have never allowed myself to be selfish because my children's happiness is more important than my own. It would be unfair to put them on the spotlight one more time because of me, but apparently, Peter never even thought of that. He is putting Zach and Grace under the eyes of the press for…what? A few thousand votes he didn't even need to win.

I march the final steps and barge inside the office. Peter is on the phone, but stops midsentence and looks up at me. I can sense he is about to shout at the intruder for interrupting, but his face goes pale as he sees it's me. In this situation, I think my presence here alone would elicit this kind of scared reaction from Peter, but I have no doubt that my flushed face from anger and the wrath that is certainly spilling through my eyes aren't helping him calm down.

"Unbelievable, Peter!" I try my best not to raise my voice too much, for we are in the gubernatorial offices, not alone at home.

"Look, Alicia," Peter stands up, but stays behind his desk, "it's not…"

"Save it. Save your excuses, your apologies, I don't care. Just tell me you will fix this!" I can't help it and yell, but my voice cracks. "For the kids," I say only above a whisper. Then, I turn around and leave his office

Getting back to the car, I close the door and start to slam the steering wheel. I punch it with all my strength, not bothering with the honk that echoes with each hit. Tears begin to fall across my cheeks and before I realize what's happening, I'm sobbing uncontrollably.


End file.
